Posted tagged ‘winter coat’

“Satire is tragedy plus time. You give it enough time, the public, the reviewers will allow you to satirize it. Which is rather ridiculous, when you think about it.

March 19, 2017

When I woke up around nine, the snow was just starting. Because of the wind, the fluffies were coming from different directions, from the north and south. Then the snow suddenly disappeared, but it’s back now, small flakes tossed by the wind. I doubt it will last long enough to accumulate.

I didn’t go out yesterday. I had no motivation. Today, though, I have a list of weird items. I need a bulb for my bathroom nightlight, an extension cord, and a plastic container for my snowmen. I’m putting them away for the season. I think they jinxed me.

I remember my first pair of nylon stockings. In those days I had to wear a garter belt. The back snaps were always the hardest to attach. I remember sometimes one would swing back and whack my leg. Pantyhose is one of the greatest inventions of the 20th century.

I never get gussied up anymore. I don’t go anywhere demanding gussy. The closest I get to dress up is coordinating the color of my pants with a clean shirt. That works no matter the season: long sleeves in winter, short sleeves in summer; corduroy in winter, cotton in summer; shoes and socks in winter, sandals in summer. I don’t even own a pair of panty hose. I do have three dresses: two flowered dresses for summer, one green dress for winter.

I don’t wear my winter jacket much. My sweatshirts are usually enough, but I do have the warmest sweater, blue with snowflakes, the sort which used to be called après skiing, for single digit temperatures. I have several pairs of mittens, but I don’t remember the last time I wore them. I have earmuffs and knit caps. My mother would be pleased.

I love Mad Magazine. I used to buy it every month. I remember the Alfred E. Newman for president drive. Mad taught me about satire and parodies and thinking for myself. I didn’t understand it all because I was young, but as I got older, I learned what it all meant. Spy versus Spy was a favorite of mine. Sometimes the white spy won and other times the black spy won. I believe that Mad Magazine helped form my politics and those of my generation. “What, me worry?”

“He had mittens, Minjekahwun, Magic mittens made of deer-skin; When upon his hands he wore them, He could smite the rocks asunder, He could grind them into powder”

November 30, 2015

Today is cloudy and in the 40’s which I still consider warm for this time of year. A sweatshirt is enough for me. I suppose if I were outside for a long time, I’d probably have to wear my winter jacket which sees little action most years. I do keep gloves in the car just in case, but I prefer mittens. They keep my fingers warmer. My pink ones are my favorites. They brighten even the darkest winter’s day.

When I was a kid and outside for a long stretch, the snow would stick to my wool mittens which would get so heavy with balls of snow the front would sag under the weight. It was time to go and trade. My mother kept pairs of mittens handy in case we wanted dry ones. She’d take our wet mittens, remove as much snow as she could and then put them on the radiators to dry. She also kept mittens without a mate just in case the mate appeared. If worse came to worse, we’d wear unmatched mittens. Fashion was never an issue.

Sometimes we got mittens in our stockings. My mother would buy them at church fairs where there was always a table of handmade goods. The women, always my grandmother’s age, sat behind the tables chit chatting. Every now and then one would get up to sell something or to rearrange the table. When I started buying stocking stuffers for my niece and nephews, that table was always my first stop. I swear the same old ladies were sitting behind it chatting.

Today is a day to get things done. I have a wash sitting in the hall, another load in the dryer where it’s been for a week and I have some errands to do. My larder is bare. Last night it was eggs and toast, a favorite dinner of mine, but not for two or three nights in a row. I am definitely thinking mashed potatoes and some kind of meat. Maybe I’ll go comfort food and cook meatloaf. Add peas, and that’s perfect dinner for me.

“The best men in all ages keep classic traditions alive.”

April 18, 2014

Today is yesterday and the day before: cloudy and cold. When I went to get the papers, I said good morning to the woman taking a brisk walk by my house. She was wearing a winter coat, knitted hat and gloves.  “Layered?” I asked. “Definitely!” was her answer. It is that cold this morning.

In my memory drawers the Easters of my childhood were always warm and sunny and filled with color. The traditional picture was on the front steps facing the sun and we all squinted. My straw Easter basket had alternating slats in yellow, green and red. The grass on the bottom was plastic and bright green. It struck to anything half-eaten: the candy tasted then put in the basket and saved for later. Jelly beans were big and all sorts of colors. I used to say the red was my favorite, but I think all the colors really tasted the same. The rabbit was eaten in stages. I was an ears first kid.

Easter dresses had pouffy petticoats underneath and most were in light pastels. The shoes were shiny patent leather each with a single strap across the front. My socks had a frilly, lacy top which folded over. When I was little, I couldn’t wait to get dressed in my new clothes. I’d put on my dress and turn in circles, and my dress would swish and twirl with me. I felt like a princess.

When I got older, Easter lost some of its luster for me. I still ate the rabbit’s ears first but pouff and patent leather were gone. One year I had my mother buy me a blazer, blouse and skirt combo. At my grandparent’s house Easter afternoon, I heard my aunt ask my mother about my outfit. She thought it was plain and hardly Easter. My mother told her it was what I wanted. That was enough.

I remember one Easter when I was in Ghana. It was a special day the way Easter should be. I was in Accra as I had traveled down on Good Friday, the start of school vacation week. A bunch of us went to a beach resort for the afternoon. I remember walking along the shore and then stopping to play coconut. We used a palm tree branch as the bat and a coconut as the ball. The game was fun. The whole day was fun. That night we all went to out to eat at a nice restaurant, not our usual hole-in-the-wall. The restaurant even had potatoes.

Easter still has traditions some dating back to my childhood. I sneak down early in the morning and decorate a tree by my friends’ deck. They give me a basket, and I do baskets for them. I always eat the rabbit’s ears first. We get dressed up and go to a fancy restaurant for dinner. We sit and enjoy the view of the ocean. We have the best time together.